


Material Goods

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Fluff & Angst [30]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-29
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-08-18 14:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8165306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo moves in. Hux wonders when the delivery sled will follow.





	

Hux is constantly waiting for the other shoe to arrive. Not drop: arrive.

Although it’s less ‘shoe’ as ‘anything at all’.

Kylo moved into his quarters like he moved into his heart and his bed. Furiously, confusingly, inexorably. 

Hux now has larger boots that stand beside his. A second toothbrush. Extra pillows. The normal reduplication that he assumes happens when you cohabit. Some things are shared (Hux isn’t too happy with how much shampoo they go through, now) and some things are not.

But there’s… not enough moved in, really. 

Hux has never been one for sentimental items. He enjoys a few pieces of art. (Or he tries to pretend he enjoys them. He secretly wishes he could be more Thrawn-like about it, but mostly he just picks things that either look nice, or look like they _should_ mean something, and he gets frustrated looking.) 

There’s a small collection of holos and things he reads and watches. There’s his first uniform (what remains of it) in a box, deeply buried, where no one will see. 

But you _collect_ detritus, like an accretion disk around a singularity. It _happens_. Things spread out, just little by little, and you end up with - _things._

And Hux waits and waits for those things to be pulled - gravity-weak - into their communal space.

And they don’t. They don’t get pulled in. They don’t appear.

For a while, he thinks maybe Kylo doesn’t trust him enough, or feel secure enough in their relationship. The guilt and pain festers deep inside, until one day he outright _asks_. (Okay, demands.)

“…I did bring all my stuff,” Kylo replies, confused.  


“Where’s the - things!?”  


“What things?”  


“The stuff! You know. _Things_.”  


Kylo waves at the room, and Hux realises: _oh._ **SHIT.**  This _is_ Kylo Ren’s whole life. 

He has nothing from _before_ , but equally nothing since he got here. He’s lived an ascetic life, and the height of his personal belongings are his underwear and dental hygiene implements. That’s _it_. That and his damn mask and glowstick.

 _For the love of_ …

“We’re going shopping.”  


“…why?”  


“I’m going to buy you a bloody… _throw cushion_ , or something. Maker, Ren, have you no pride?”  


“Is this because I’m with you?”  


“No! Yes! Just…” Where do you start? “Fine. What’s something you always wanted, and never got to have?”  


“Galactic domination?” Kylo ducks the thrown pillow. “Okay, okay… uh… Ancient Sith holoc– hey!”  


Hux growls.

“I don’t know. I didn’t ever really _need_ anything.”  


“You’re ridiculous.”  


“Says the man who hangs his paintings upside down.”  


Hux chokes. “What?”

Kylo nods at one. “That one. Upside down. That one… should be flipped spinward. And that one is an obscene depiction of arousal.”

“You’re lying.”  


“Check the ‘net. You’ll see I’m not.”  


Huh. So Kylo’s an art critic. He can work with that. “We’re going to a gallery. And you’re going to explain which piece we buy, and why.”

That seems acceptable, and Kylo nods. “I’m vetoing anything Wookie.”

A shudder, and he nods. “Deal.” Not that Hux would likely be able to _tell_ it was a Wookie artwork, unless it had fur stuck all over the paint.


End file.
